Tycoon Marygold (3)
No way. It couldn't be. This time, Lancel denied it outright. No matter how unpredictable Marygold was, there was no way she'd become the leader of a bandit gang in just two years.
Having sorted his thoughts, Lancel tried to enjoy the harvest festival again. But for some reason, he couldn't focus on the sweet scent of fruit wine wafting through the air, the sizzling aroma of roasting meat, the dances and music echoing across the fields—none of it.
It was only when a shadowy figure appeared before him, lurking in front of the bulletin board in the dead of night, that he finally resigned himself to it.
"Tch, how much are they offering anyway?"
Grousing as she ripped down her own wanted poster was a nineteen-year-old Marygold.
I knew it.
Lancel picked up a wooden stick from the ground and prodded her head with it.
"Gotcha, bandit leader."
"Eek!"
She leaped back five steps in an instant before tumbling to the ground.
"Ow!"
Lancel pinched his nose and crouched down to meet the eyes of the collapsed Marygold.
"That bounty looks pretty sweet, huh, Bandit Leader Mary?"
"I-It's not like that! I'm innocent! It's all a frame-up! I never did anything bad! I'm just a poor soul—please spare m…… Huh?"
Their gazes locked as Marygold squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled her excuses.
"……."
"Why don't you try coming up with some excuse."
Her face went blank, no reaction at all. He poked between her brows with his finger, and she just blinked silently.
"Benefactor…… sir?"
Tears like chicken droppings began streaming from Marygold's eyes.
6.
"Hic, sniff, gulp."
Lancel had moved them to a nearby inn, waiting patiently for Marygold—who had clung to him, sobbing her heart out—to calm down.
"Why do I always reunite with you like this, Benefactor sir?"
"That's my line. Why are you always on the brink of death every time I see you?"
At this point, it was more miraculous that she was still alive.
"Stop crying and tell me what happened. Before I drag you to the guards and cash in that 25-gold bounty, Bandit Leader."
"I-It's a frame-up! Baron Bake, th-that jerk ate my money and framed me!"
"What're you talking about?"
"When I took over the merchant guild, the right to collect a debt came with it, but it was all a scheme by Baron Bake and the guild, and I got totally duped without knowing anything, and now I'm framed as a bandit leader……!"
"Explain it step by step."
Lancel wiped away cold sweat as her story poured out like a waterfall in her trembling voice. Marygold gulped down a cup of cold water to settle her nerves, then opened her mouth again.
"A year ago, I got lucky and made a big score. It was about salvaging a wrecked ship—oh, you don't need to know that part……!"
She didn't invest in pirate ships again, did she?
As Lancel's eyes sharpened, Marygold hurriedly changed the subject.
"Anyway, after staying with the guild, I realized that to really make money, I'd have to become the guild master myself."
"The commissions you earn just sitting there are pretty juicy."
"Yes! Exactly, Benefactor sir!"
Marygold lit up at the agreement, chattering away, but her expression soon darkened.
"So when they said a famous local guild was up for sale entirely, I bought it."
"For how much?"
"25 gold coins……."
Coincidentally, exactly her bounty amount.
"And with it, I got the guild's right to collect 150 gold from Baron Bake."
"Then Baron Bake labeled your guild as bandits?"
"Yes! That's it! You believe me, right, Benefactor sir?"
"……."
"You…… believe me…… right……?"
Lancel had actually intuited it from the start. The moment he saw Marygold suddenly branded a bandit leader, he'd had a hunch it was something like this.
Eliminate the creditor, and the debt vanishes. That's the rule.
Over the hundreds of years he'd lived in this world, the antics and schemes of nobles he'd witnessed firsthand went far beyond this. "Bandit" was a convenient label in this era—pinned on neighbors, personal grudges, enemy armies, or anyone who got in the way. It stuck anywhere it made a shred of sense. People would just lop off some random head, hang it up, and shrug, "Must've been a bandit," without asking questions.
"Benefactor sir……."
"Wipe your face first."
"Sniff!"
Lancel rubbed Marygold's tear-soaked face with his handkerchief.
"Got the debt document?"
"Y-Yes!"
Taking his words as trust, Mary rummaged in her bosom and pulled out a neatly rolled parchment document.
"Here……!"
"Brought some food."
That was when the inn door swung open without a knock.
Lancel shoved Marygold's head into his robe in one swift motion, hiding her. A short yelp echoed from inside the fabric.
The maidservant entered right at that moment.
"……What are you doing?"
She eyed Lancel strangely as he hurriedly righted the spilled cup.
"Nothing. Just leave it."
Lancel crammed the wriggling Marygold deeper into his robe as he replied.
"Yes, sir……."
Suspicious glance.
"Is there anything else you need?"
Sniff sniff. He grabbed the nape of the girl suddenly sniffing from his bosom and peeled her away.
"I'll let you know if I think of something."
"Bath service will be ready soon, so just say the word."
The maidservant left, and the door closed. Only after her footsteps faded completely did Lancel pull out what was in his robe.
Marygold emerged from the thick robe folds, her face flushed red-hot. She'd tried holding out a bit longer, but it was probably his imagination.
"Anyway."
"……Yes!"
He snatched the debt document from the startled girl.
"Just collect this money, right?"
"C-Can you do that?"
"Of course there's a way. I'm a noble, after all."
By using the family's influence.
* * *
"I'm here to collect a debt."
On a spring morning as the breeze stirred, Lancel arrived at Baron Bake's minor fortress.
"Baron Bake borrowed 150 gold from us. Open the gate."
He shouted for a while in front of the walled stockade. Soldiers peeked out.
"Where are you from?"
"From Mary Merchant Guild."
"Mary Merchant Guild? Never heard of it."
"Baron Bake will know."
"Wait here."
The soldier returned soon enough—with a bow in hand.
The gate opened, and guards rushed out.
"Catch that bandit scum!"
"How dare a bandit demand money so shamelessly!"
Lancel whipped his horse and fled. Arrows whistled past him.
"Baron Bake! You've made a big mistake!"
7.
"……And that's what happened."
"Tsk tsk."
Lancel recounted the events back home at the Dante estate after a long absence. Marygold sat beside him, fidgeting nervously, eyes darting around.
Come to think of it, this was the first time he'd brought her home.
"So."
Viscount Dante began, furrows deep in his brow.
"You invested in this Mary merchant here, and Baron Bake—who owed her guild money—framed her as a bandit? Including you? Not content with turning you away, he even shot arrows at you?"
"You catch on quick. As expected of my father. If those arrows had been a bit more accurate, who knows what state I'd be in now. Imagine that."
"I'd say good riddance."
His mother, Lady Dante, across from them, rubbed her temple.
"I thought you'd finally brought home a girl to marry off, but unlike your brothers, why are you such a magnet for trouble?"
"A free spirit……."
"Free my ass!"
Marygold flinched at the sharp retort.
"Enough."
Viscount Dante spoke after some deliberation.
"Baron Bake wouldn't do that without reason, son. Looks like you did something shady. You're the worst for making enemies without cause."
"Harsh words for your son."
"Bullshit……."
Viscount Dante waved it off, headache evident. Even with justification, noble clashes were best avoided.
"Forget it. Write it off as a loss. I'll send a messenger to clear the misunderstanding. He'll send some token gesture then."
"150 coins."
"……."
"Gold."
"……."
"Principal only."
"……!"
Viscount Dante shot to his feet.
"Who does Baron Bake serve under?"
"Count Shalle, they say. Someone reasonable."
"Prepare."
Viscount Dante began donning his armor. His wife shook her head beside him.
"Off to collect the money already. Mary, was it?"
"Y-Yes, my lord Viscount!"
"Lead the way."
……
"How dare this wretched Baron Bake—who dared brand my precious son a bandit and threaten him—crawl out of that castle right now!"
His booming voice echoed across Baron Bake's territory. Soldiers and villagers alike stared tensely at the intruders.
In the post-harvest fields under a clear sky, armored cavalry swarmed.
The local guards couldn't even dream of stopping them. Faced with the aura of a traditional knightly house, mere militia parted the way in panic.
This rural barony was no match.
"Baron Bake! Are you deaf? Crawl out now! Or should I smash the gate myself to feel better?!"
Soon, the fortress gate creaked open.
"Huff, huff!"
"Finally."
A pot-bellied middle-aged man stumbled out, back soaked in sweat. Baron Bake.
"Wh-Why has the renowned Viscount Dante graced our humble rural domain……."
"You shot arrows at my son, and you're still playing dumb?"
"Y-Your son?"
"Yeah. Don't recognize this face?"
His finger pointed at Lancel. Baron Bake's eyes slid past him to the woman riding in front.
"Mary, you…… you bitch……!"
Mary flashed a smug smile at his gaping shock, as if sensing the heavenly host at her back.
"Give me my money already!"
"You filthy……!"
"Watch your tongue, Baron Bake."
Lancel cut him off.
"Mary Merchant Guild is under the Dante family's protection. Everything you said or did to her is the same as doing it to our house."
"……."
The fight drained from Baron Bake's eyes.
The law of the jungle. This world's rule.
"Well then."
A smile crept onto Viscount Dante's lips.
"Shall we go inside and settle accounts properly?"
"W-Wait, we don't have that much money, my lord Viscount. Give us a little time, and we'll pay in installments if we must……!"
"Nonsense."
Viscount Dante surveyed the surroundings, taking in the vast Bake barony.
"You've got land, don't you?"
"……!"
Despair flooded Baron Bake's eyes.
……
A merchant guild born in the boonies.
Suspiciously flush with cash.
The moment Mary Merchant Guild was officially launched.